


The Iron Bull - The Tavern

by elvhenphoenix



Series: Reflecting on Lavellan [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Skye Lavellan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:09:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5412869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elvhenphoenix/pseuds/elvhenphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When in doubt, drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Iron Bull - The Tavern

Boss is getting pretty good at putting on a show. She's learnt when and where to smile, where to extend her graces and where to keep them to herself. Most people would think her recovered from the fight. Most people would think she's ready to go out and clean up the mess that Corypheus left behind.

Then again, most people weren't trained to be Ben-Hassrath.

He has left that life behind, now, has a new life here, in the Inquisition, but he can't forget what he trained his whole life for. He's noticed each movement, each miniscule working of muscles, and he knows that she's still suffering.

He's not quite sure how to deal with it. He's either giving orders or taking them, and pain - well, there is no time for pain in Bull's busy schedule. When it does manage to worm its way into his mind, he drinks. Sure, it's probably not healthy, but it helps him, helps him far better than the Qun ever did.

It's more fun, too.

So that's how he tries to help, handing her a tankard of dwarven ale and challenging her to a drinking contest. She's surprisingly good at holding her liquor, he remembers, and is not disappointed when she makes it through an entire tankard before starting to slur.

The Chargers join them, then, singing songs and cheering as she finishes another tankard. She's drinking with reckless abandon, and whilst some part of him urges caution, the rest is content to let her have an evening off.

Even the Inquisitor needs to appear personable once in a while, he thinks.

It all goes great until she starts to dance. By this point, Maryden has struck up a rousing jig, and the entirety of Herald's Rest are dancing to the music. The Inquisitor is on a table, clapping her hands and swirling around, and he can see the point where memory overtakes her. Her feet move, blurring, as she tosses her hair, listening to a music that no one else can hear.

And then she falls off the table. Luckily, Bull has been near her all evening, and catches her without pause, but it's enough to make her stop smiling, and she goes limp in his arms. He can feel her trembling, and he takes her upstairs, into the eaves, where she clutches her sides and breathes, deeply, trying to regain control.

'You remembered when you danced,' someone whispers, and Bull sees the kid appearing from the shadows. 'He remembers, too.'

The words make her shake her head, and Bull knows a flashback when he sees one, knows how they cramp at the mind and freeze you in place. 'Alright, boss, let's get some air.'

Slowly, he leads her outside, and they breathe together, letting the memory break like a wave on the rocks, letting it flow, letting go of the pain it now brings.

He has no time for pain, he thinks, but she certainly does.

Damn.


End file.
